


I am Alive at Times and Dead at Others

by our_black_heart



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Vampires, frank iero poetry, vampire!Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_black_heart/pseuds/our_black_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank stumbles upon something and someone he never wanted to stumble upon, but he couldn't get away from it even if he wanted too. It was an otherworldly sensation that he mistook as divine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am Alive at Times and Dead at Others

That’s the last thing I remember.

An otherworldly sensation that I misunderstood as divine. Well, sinfully divine. As divine as sinful can get. But really does it make a difference what the fuck it was that I felt? The point is that I felt it and something in me told me that I definitely shouldn’t have.

And really I didn’t want to submit myself to that again. I never intended on going back not that I was ever allowed to leave, I mean I never intended on being in that situation in the first place. I was compelled. The dark shadow of enthrallment physically manifested into a dark figure and I just happened to stumble upon its territory. At that moment it felt as if the cemetery grounds were full of life, a borrowed life, because I’m sure if it actually thought and felt for itself, it wouldn’t bother with me. But the possessed roots that grew alongside graves came to life, right before my eyes. I thought I was hallucinating when they started to wrap around me like some kind of vengeful snake. But I wasn’t, I wasn’t even on one of my usual trips. I had been clean of any kind of drug for about a month. Not by choice, by force. The economy seemed to agree with my worrying mother, and it left me for broke.

Well this was something more powerful than any trip I had ever been on. This shit was real.

I started to squirm against the muscle like limbs but it did nothing. Maybe it was like quick sand, the more you move the more you drown. Of course this wasn’t drowning, this was suffocating. Two different things if you really think about it. That was the second mistake that occurred that night; the first was walking into the foggy cemetery. But who could resist that?

The plant started to choke me; I had given it the satisfaction of knowing I had given into it. But right before I could see the very last ounce of life slip away from my wanting hands, I saw something else. Something more significant. Although I’m not sure I can tell you why, partially because I myself am not sure why.

I saw him, he who had called me into the damned cemetery. I didn’t know that it was him who had called me, not for a while, not until one night while he was lying with me in his bed. He had confessed that amongst other things, but really that was all I had heard. I had never heard him speak of me as anything more than an object; I always knew I was more than that though.

Gerard was the only one of his kind that I had ever come across, I had never believed in their existence outside of my stupidly cheesy movies and novels. But he wasn’t anything like those were. He was real, he was dangerous, and he was scary. I don’t think I would stick around if I had the choice, but I do. Because I don’t.

He wasn’t romantic, rarely if ever actually. And if the day came where he was romantic it was a dark possessive romance.

He couldn’t leave the house, not until the witching hours. Because yes, he was still a member of the popularly undead. I remember him once describing an outing during day light as passing through hell. Of course I didn’t doubt that was what it actually felt like to him, he’d experienced hell. Or so he says.

Since he wasn’t able to leave, I wasn’t able to leave. I was never to leave his side unless he so clearly demanded me too, which was not rare. At first banishment into a coffin was a nightmare, not one that you could wake up from. But now it’s become my only escape. My only time away from him. Because really I didn’t love him, at least I think I didn’t. I just immensely lusted for him. Every waking moment I could imagine the fangs that bit into every corner of my body that he could find. And as much as he claimed that he could not love, and that if he could he sure as fuck wouldn’t love me, he called my name. I could hear it slip out from the cracks in his coffin, as he slept. A slumber that would be disturbed by the slightest movement on my part. Not that I would move, being bitten was beyond a trip. The best kind, and with this economy it seemed like the venom was the easiest way to bum a good trip.

“Frank” it would come out as a soft whisper, one that only I could hear. But there was no need, no one else was around to hear it. He spoke it in his sleep like a whisper that even the undead could not hear. An incantation, a mantra that was meant to calm me. It was as if he breathed out the word to keep the oxygen that he didn’t need, flowing generously through his body. Keeping me alive along with the cycle.

He was gentle, as if all the anger and wickedness in him was only meant for outside the bedroom. He never tried to be dominant. Anything I would give he would take, and happily too. Anything that I wanted, he would give, and happily too. His black moppy hair would cover us, in a world tented by sinfulness. One we both shared gladly. Every time it was like going at it and finally reaching a state where I could maybe read him, I’d be calling out his name like something from the bible, so holy and cleansing. There would be something in his hazel eyes that would reassure me of the love he could not share with me. Because that’s all we ever were, lustful.

When the bedroom doors would open we were back at his stupid game, he’d scare me and threaten me half to death. I’d fear my life and well being, and I’d stay away from him. Locked away in my own personal coffin. Hoping that I wouldn’t do anything to piss him off.

But it was the last day that was my third mistake. Because he had finally given me what I wanted. A confession. He told me that he had loved me and that I had to love him back, well after all those years, yes years, of being told that what I was participating in was not love, I had begun to believe it. I instead had kissed him, licking away at the fangs that grew sharper as our session had progressed. He slipped a cool hand around my growing warmth and pumped it mercilessly. My sweat and sperm rubbed against him, he himself could not produce either. In his eyes I read it all, he was not lying to me. It wasn’t just want that I saw in them, it was a need. A need to convince me, maybe that’s what he had been trying to do with that amazing hand job, and although I was thoroughly convinced I could not say it back. Not as much as he had wanted me too, not as much as I had wanted too, because I did I really did. Shortly after, he’d asked me to kill him, end him. He said that if I really loved him I didn’t have to say it, that I could prove it. With a stake to his heart. So my final mistake was falling in love with the beast that I had been sure I had hated at some point. Sent from bellow to make my life as much a hell as the one he had endured. And when I had done it, I had staked him, I felt so overwhelmingly in love. My heart beating furiously, enough for the both of us. His dying words, our mantra, my name. He called me for the last time.

“Frank, I am loved and so I love.” He whispered out, so that I was the only entity that could hear him.

“Gerard, I’ve been hurt and so I hurt.” I responded, as if it was the only response that I knew.

I did love him enough to prove it to him, and that feeling burst within me, pulsating through my still existent life line.

An otherworldly sensation that I misunderstood as divine.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet. My first one on AO3 but it's been posted on livejournal before. Let me know what you think, thanks!


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